


hold onto each other (it's all we can do)

by sunkissedstar



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Autism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Overstimulation, Panic Attacks, So is Race, albert dasilva is on the autism spectrum, albert is trying his best, he's a good friend, hmm this is after the fight during the strike, i wrote it as platonic but u can read it as romantic, specs is done with everyone's bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkissedstar/pseuds/sunkissedstar
Summary: Albert DaSilva lived his life in patterns. He had a system, and sometimes he was convinced it was the only thing that stopped him from going insane.Then, the strike happened, and all of a sudden his world was thrown off-balance.~Albert's life is unpredictable and overwhelming, and sometimes it's hard to get a grip on reality. He doesn't have to do it alone.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva & Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	hold onto each other (it's all we can do)

**Author's Note:**

> we're going to pretend i don't have four wips to finish
> 
> this is just a short thing i posted on tumblr but i was proud of it so it's goin on here, babey! enjoy :)
> 
> trigger warning: panic attack/breakdown, overstimulation, mention of injuries

Albert DaSilva lived his life in patterns. Wake up at the bell, steal Race’s cigar, put his hat on before his suspenders, buy his papers, eat half a sandwich for lunch, go home, go to bed, rinse and repeat. He had a system, and sometimes he was convinced it was the only thing that stopped him from going insane.

Then, the strike happened, and all of a sudden his world was thrown off-balance. He woke up at the bell, but Race snapped at him when Albert tried to steal his cigar. He lost his hat and everyone was too stressed to help him find it. He didn’t buy his papers. He didn’t have the money for lunch. He went home, but his brothers were complaining about not having money for food. He went to bed, but he stared at the ceiling for hours after the city had gone to sleep.

Then, just when Albert thought the worst was over and he might be able to pretend everything was okay, the fight happened. The cops showed up, and everywhere he looked, people were shouting and his friends were fighting like their lives depended on it. Maybe they did.

It was like saying the alphabet the same way for your entire life, and one day being forced to say it backwards. He didn’t know what was happening or why, but all he knew was that it was different and he hated it. 

“Let’s get ya checked out, Al.”

Albert flinched as Specs sat down in front of him and the chair banged on the ground.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure don’t look like it.” Specs grabbed his chin, pulling him forward and wincing a little as he got a better look at the bruise Albert could feel coloring his jaw. “That bruise hurt much?”

“ _No_ ,” Albert lied. “I’m fine.”

Specs didn’t look like he believed him, but he let go of Albert’s face, which was better than nothing. His eyes scanned Albert up and down, then widened at the blood staining his arm from a gaping cut on his forearm. 

_Damn._ Albert was pretty sure one of the Delanceys had gotten him with a knife during the fight, but he’d been hoping to hide the glaringly obvious evidence. 

“Yikes, Al, you need to wrap that.”

“Make me.”

Apparently more than happy to make him, Specs grabbed his arm, a roll of bandages and a rag in his hand that Albert was pretty sure he’d pulled out of mid-air. 

“Stop touchin’ me!”

“Calm down, Al,” Specs muttered, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He made quick work of wiping away the blood. The bandages he wrapped around the wound were tight and made Albert’s arm itch. As soon as he was done, Specs bit the end off the roll and tied it off. He grabbed Albert’s arm again, trying to pull him up. “C’mon, we might have to sew it up later but we can put it in a sling…”

“I ain’t puttin’ it in a fuckin’ sling,” Albert said, ripping his arm away and jumping to his feet. “Leave me alone, stop messin’ with me -”

Specs cut him off again, saying something with a half-annoyed, half-concerned look on his face, but Albert’s ears were starting to ring, and all of a sudden, there were so many people in the room that it was too loud to think. The bandages on his arm were twisting and scratching his skin in a grip that left him gasping for air.

Specs raised his voice to be heard, and suddenly Albert could hear his words like water had come rushing out of his ears. “Albert? Damn, kid, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Albert clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut as the floor swayed under his feet. The sharp, burning pain in his arm from the knife wound was already too much. His feet were sore and his knuckles were bruised. He hated the feeling of tears pricking his eyes like needles.

Specs put a hand on the back of Albert’s head, and then it was too much.

Albert’s hands flew out in front of him, shoving Specs away. He darted from the room as it suddenly fell silent, a dozen eyes watching him go. 

His feet carried him upstairs on their own accord, protesting the pressure on his aching legs. He blindly shoved the window open when he reached the boys’ bunk room, tripping over the ledge in his haste to get out on the fire escape.

He gripped the railing of the fire escape with white knuckles, feeling the air sting his cheeks like a cold winter day. He stared resolutely down at the metal grates beneath him, surprised to find his legs shaking. 

“Albie?”

Albert froze, shoulders tensing as he spun around. He’d left the window open in his muddled panic, and Race was stepping through to meet him outside. Albert relaxed slightly, then turned to face the open New York sky again.

“Go away,” he bit out.

“Okay,” Race said slowly, and he came up to stand beside Albert. He didn’t lay a hand on him. “Do you actually want me to leave, or are you just freakin’ out? Damn, what’s that word that Davey used…” Race drummed his fingers on the railing. _“Overwhelmed._ Yeah, is that it?”

Albert watched Race’s hands, the repetitive motion feeling like a pause in the chaos, something easy to focus on. Meanwhile, Race was looking at him carefully, calculating. _Damn him._

“I’m fine,” Albert said, teeth gritted like it hurt to say. “I just… I can’t… it’s a lot, it’s…”

“Different?” Race finished, and Albert nodded minutely. “I’m sorry I snapped at you when you took my cigar this mornin’. I know you were just tryin’ to stay on routine, and I think that’s somethin’ we all need with all this shit goin’ on with the strike.”

Albert glanced down at his arm, picking at the fresh bandages. “Specs kept on touchin’ me. It was too loud downstairs. I… the bandages… they’re tight. Don’t like the feelin’.”

He finished the sentence lamely, cheeks flushing at the awkward words. But Race just nodded. 

“We don’t have to talk about anything if you just need it quiet,” he said. “Listen, I’m pissed that Brooklyn didn’t show up. Like, punchin’ Spot in the face is definitely still on the table. Do you wanna take a walk while Specs is patchin’ people up, just to blow off some steam?”

Albert seriously doubted Race was offering a breath of fresh air for himself, if his cautious glance at Albert’s pale, trembling hands and red-rimmed eyes had anything to do with it. 

But nevertheless, the lodging house was too loud. There were too many people. It was too _everything_.

But Race? Race had never been “too” anything.

Albert nodded, touching Race’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s get outta here.”

Race grinned and jerked his head at the ladder. “Thought you’d never say so.”

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know if there's anything i can improve on with albert's character! i based his experiences off of my own with my adhd and anxiety and shit, but if there's anything you want to point out about the way i wrote him, let me know!
> 
> thanks for reading! come yell at me on tumblr @sun-kissed-star and leave comments and kudos :) have a fantastic night


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